And I'll meet you further on up the road
by ultraviolet9a
Summary: Two chapters or Stories, one complementing the other. ... Dean: Two roads. The world. A gun. .... Sam: The world. A gun. A brother. A choice. Spoilers after IMTofD and onwards.
1. And I'll meet you further on up the road

**And I'll meet you further on up the road.

* * *

**

**Graveyard boots:**

Once upon a time the world is swallowed up in fire. Not the fire that burns forests and has troops trying to put them out. Not the burn of a third world war that people have feared and predicted for years.

This is the fire of hell, and the world resides in it. Demons roam free, incarnating with absolute freedom. There is no prayer or chant to make them go away, no god to pray to, not one who will listen. They roam free of worldly shackles, a new playground theirs for the taking.

Dean's thinking of bullies in high school. Claiming, taking, ruling. Hurting. Just because.

This is the nature of demons, and demons are big bullies, and Dean's watching what's left of humanity hide in the corner hoping to pass unnoticed.

They're walking the street and civilization collapses under the heavy march.

Dean sees it clearly in his mind and once upon a time he would have stood up, kept on fighting, found a way to make things right, because that's what the Winchesters do. On occasion.

Once upon a time. Now Dean doesn't care. It was Winchester blood that brought the world down and Sam is lost to him to the other side. Dean's feet feel heavy, his boots thudding around to a beat that says death would have been better. The Demon won't let him. The Demon will bestow him life, over and over again, to let him watch how he lost the war.

How he lost his brother.

Dean keeps on walking, blending in, more ghost than human.

He sees it clearly in his mind.

He should have pulled the trigger.

* * *

**Dead man's suit:**

Once upon a time the world almost got lost to fire. It was in a fraction of a second, and that fraction seemed to last forever, till time moved again, and the world was still there as it's always been.

Cars moving, light changing, night falling, day breaking, people moving sleeping fucking dying living, same old story practiced over and over again.

Dean can see it clearly in his mind, because he knows this world. Has loved this world.

More than his brother.

Less than his brother.

The world didn't change, but Dean did. Like a ghost, driving around, trying to forget his brother's face. No more ties, all he's loved dead and he's thinking that as far as he's concerned the Demon's won.

He would have liked to shove the same gun in his mouth and pull the trigger, but knows neither Sam nor Dad would have approved. He doesn't think they'll approve of this pit he's sunk into right now, but this one he can't help.

There's pain in his head that won't go away and is stronger whenever he dreams. He always dreams.

If he had done this or done that….if his world had changed. The world didn't. It stood still and stamped Cain's mark on him and Dean can see the endless years ahead of him as a wait to the other side.

He sees it clearly in his mind.

He should never have pulled the trigger.

* * *

**Where the gun is cocked:**

Once upon a time Dean Winchester is cocking the gun that will save the world.

Once upon a time Dean Winchester is cocking the gun that will kill his brother.

There are two roads he can walk now. He can see them clearly in his mind. They play out like fucking blockbusters with Dolby surround and his trigger finger trembles slightly looking at Sam Winchester.

All the steps and miles and years leading here.

Two roads.

And neither is leading to salvation.

He is a Winchester, Dean's thinking and accepts the loss of hope.

He is a Winchester.

And salvation has never been for their bloodline.

-The End.

* * *

_Sidenote: Main title and chapter titles taken from Johnny Cash's "Further on up the Road". It's a brilliant song , which gives a new perspective to the fic. Possibly. Don't know. Anyway, I don't mean to infringe on any rights, nor make profit of the song or anything of the sort. _Total_ disclaimer here.___

DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, I just write about them. Alas.


	2. The flipped side of the coin

**And I'll meet you further on up the road: the flipped side of the coin

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**

**Now I've been out in the desert:**

Sam doesn't like the hunt. What he hates most about it is a tiny little fuzzy detail that would have Dean thrashing with laughter: Sam hates the taste of blood in his mouth, yet somehow always manages to end up tasting it. Bloody damsel in distress, he's thinking. With Dean always coming through for him. Dean has tasted a lot of blood too, especially for Sam's sake, but he never complains, and if he doesn't, Sam might as well shut up about it.

He still hates the taste of it, though.

It tastes like dirty nickels. Chewing coins is not his idea of fun.

When Dean had told him The Secret Sam remembers tasting it again. He had been biting the inside of his cheek, because he knew Dean would notice if he chewed and bled his lips, but he couldn't help himself, needed something to vent the immense amount of grief that came over him. And guilt. And Dean shouldn't find out about it. Ever.

Sam doesn't understand his brother sometimes, but he knows Dean's been through serious shit even if he didn't have his girlfriend fried up against the ceiling.

When he was with Jess, in college, in a semblance of normal life, he had forgotten about it. Forgot how Dean feels like his own personal haven. The easy breathing on the next bed, the smartass mouth, the strength in him. The willingness to die for Sam. This, Sam knows without a doubt. Dean would die for him. Dean would die and thank God he had the chance to do it.

Dean is haven and his pillar of strength but Sam now realizes how Dean's also a man, and a man can only take this much, and if dad hadn't died the way he did Sam would want to pummel him for burdening Dean's shoulders so bloody much with that choice. The world. Sam. Sam. The world.

Sam doesn't think that he could ever step over to the other side, but then again, neither did Darth Vader, did he? Nor Gordon. Stepping over is easy, because you never notice it happening, and sometimes the hands sidling you stealthily over are beyond your control. You just get caught up in the whirlwind and you let it carry you to a dark wizard of Oz.

But that doesn't matter to him. The world, Oz, the other side. What matters is Dean.

* * *

**And the seed is sowed:**

Sam thinks something is intrinsically wrong with him. That wrong shaped wire or ancient curse is what makes all he loves wither and die. Mum burnt over him. Jess burnt over him. Dad died too. And maybe the world will end because of him.

He didn't choose it, didn't choose to have visions and ESP and if he could he would return all that and to hell with the world.

He didn't choose his life, and he suspects that Dean won't let him choose his death either. See, he knows his brother. Dean would do anything for him. Dean would take the burden from him. Dean would bear the weight of choosing between death and life and Sam and the world.

_I'd rather die before I see you dead, Sammy,_ Dean had whispered once.

_I know, Dean_, Sam had whispered back.

_I know_, he's thinking now.

And Sam's thinking, that yes, something is intrinsically wrong with him. People always die around him and in some way it is his fault. He knows, because he feels guilty. And if he gives Dean the choice, he might as well have killed Dean himself. But Sam knows. _Knows_. The world for him is his brother. And this one he'll save.

Sam will take away the choice.

* * *

**One sunny morning we'll rise, I know:**

Sam hates the taste of blood. It tastes of iron, metallic like dirty nickels.

So when he uses his mind and makes Dean's gun fling to himself, when he feels it solid in his own hand, he doesn't put it in his mouth, but the temple.

He's seen hell, so he believes in heaven. He believes in salvation.

And salvation is not for the world. It is for his brother.

Sam pulls the trigger.

-The End.

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DISCLAIMER: I try and try but I still don't own them. So I'm angsting them a bit today. 

NOTE: My photo teacher always says how it's good to try out various angles on the same subject. I thought that could apply here. Companion piece/sequel to _And I'll meet you further on up the road_. Read that one first. Not that this one can't stand alone, it's just that it'll feel…different.


End file.
